Digital War: Destroy, Create, Control
by Trinity Dragon
Summary: Alone, unable to move, life was almost over for me. I felt death coming upon me like a rushing wind. And then the lights came on and I was given a second chance. I took it, but it cost me a dear friend. I promised him I would come back. I intend to do so.
1. Long Version

**Disclaimer:** Hello to you all. For the record, I do not own Digimon. I own Kai, the universe in which this is set, and the computer which this is being typed on. If you read this, I only ask you of one thing. REVIEW THE STORY or face my Crazy Aunt Betty and her toxic sludge. Evil cackle.

* * *

**DIGITAL WAR:**

**Destroy, Create, Control **

"Sir, he'll need much more work than we have time for." I heard voices. "He's under sedation right now…"

"Do not question what I say." A scream. "That collar is on you for a reason, Millenniumon. Never counter me."

Millenniumon replied in a hoarse voice. "Yes, sir. But please allow me more time. His body requires much repair work and the facilities here are just barely advanced enough to keep him alive."

I heard a disgruntled sigh. "Very well. Move him to Neflhiem and I will supervise the project myself. The clone works are almost complete anyway."

Footsteps. Very heavy footsteps and a long, depressed sigh from Millenniumon. "I don't know what he's thinking, but…" He was quiet as he opened the door. A light flipped on and I was momentarily blinded. Apparently, he saw me right away. "Good, you're awake."

He came toward me, both his heads looking over me carefully. I decided to try and speak. "I can't feel my body," I said in a gravely voice.

Millenniumon looked at me. "Your body is incapable of movement," he said tersely. "I've been constructing a new one." He lifted the sheet that covered my body and a craned my neck to see what had happened.

Bruised, bloody, butchered to where I couldn't recognize it even if I could remember. "How did I get here," I asked, not expecting an answer.

"Master found you on the verge of death after a bombing raid. You were given to me for experimentation." The beast busied himself with preparing surgical tools. I gulped when I saw the blades and instruments. He didn't seem to notice.

"What are you going to do with those?"

"Prepare you for transport." He pulled out a syringe filled with a clear jell. I gulped again. He stuck me with it. I yelped loudly and he backhanded me hard.

* * *

I don't know how long it was before I woke. When I did, it was dark as pitch and I couldn't feel a thing. Not even my head this time around.

I heard shuffling. A light flipped on and Millenniumon stepped in, not noticing that I was awake. "If you think I can't see that you're awake, you're dead wrong. And you'll be dead if you try to escape."

I tried to speak, but my voice was gone. What the hell did he do to me! I could still think. If he's a Mind User, he'll answer. He slipped a sheet off a table, revealing a dead BlackWarGreymon. Dead! And still there? ­

He laughed, obviously enjoying his work. "Your new body," he stated simply. "If you had any idea of what I had to do to keep Master from eating it, you'd be thanking me." He removed the chest plate from the corpse's armor.

A large gash in the center was caked over with dried blood. He must have been partially organic, I thought to myself. Millenniumon proceeded in removing the rest of the armor, plate by plate. Several implants were embedded within the skin and more than a few limbs had been replaced.

The beast removed the helmet. Oh dear god… He left the eyes open! The sick bastard. He laughed. I diverted my sight to other parts of the body. Its neck was metal as well as part of its stomach area. But the eyes…

"As of now, the tube that encases your consciousness is your home. When the time comes, you will be transferred into this body. Master will want to see whether my experiment has gone properly, so you will be taken to his chambers for inspection."

Tube? No wonder I couldn't move.

He didn't even pause for a breath as he opened the cut in the corpse's chest even wider. His upper pair of hands moved delicately around inside the body, probably taking out unnecessary body parts.

He removed the body's heart and placed it in a glass jar. Then he proceeded to remove the body's lungs and stomach, placing them each in a jar of its own. What're you going to do with them?

"Master ordered me to restrain myself from using the internal organs for the experiment." A servant entered the room, rolling a cart around to the table where the beast was working. "Cyber-electronic implants will do you fine for your task."

I was intrigued, but still scared witless. Again, he went to work, using the tools he had laid out before him like an artist. But still the fact remained. They were turning me into a weapon to destroy innocents.

I didn't know what had happened before, but I did know when not to want to have anything to do with someone. If there's ever been a time when I believed in the Creator, it was right then as I prayed for some kind of an escape rout. Unfortunately, He didn't provide one.

My thoughts wandered. How long had I been there? How much of what the beast was doing did I miss? I thought that maybe I was going insane. I turned to how I could escape.

Glass tube? No, glass couldn't keep a Shadow confined. Magnetically charged dentenite would do it. But that would have a tint to it.

I felt an itch. Felt… Millenniumon was testing the body's nerve system. And I was feeling it! The itch was getting worse. How am I supposed to scratch an itch with no body at all? I'd heard of torture, but this was agonizing.

Damn you. Quit that! My captor backhanded the corps's muzzle, causing me to recoil in sudden shock and searing pain. He snorted, hearing a muffled scream from the body.

By now, other parts were starting to hurt. Mainly where he had opened the chest and put in the artificial heart, though my limbs were now drenched in a dull ache. He was starting to get to me; having me start thinking of the body as mine.

Millenniumon opened the body's mouth. What's he doing, I asked myself. I tried to close it, but the connection only worked enough for me to give a cry once and a while. So, sitting there helpless with my mouth gaping, he drilled.

"Still testing your nerve system." Agonizing! He drilled to the nerves. I stifled another cry.

You're sick, ya know that! When I get the chance, your heads are mine! He drilled further in response, silencing me. The connection was getting stronger. I screamed. I screamed as loud and as long as I could, trying to shut my mouth. He had it braced in an open position. Finally, I blacked out from the intensity of the pain.

* * *

I woke again. The light had been left on. Still in the tube, I thought, seeing a reflection of the corpse. I could feel things though. The sheet that covered most of the cadaver, the pain of an open wound; it all resonated within me. Its limbs were heavy and immovable.

I saw movement from the table. It was breathing! I heard it breathing; long, labored breaths coinciding with the steady rise and fall of the body's chest. I sighed. And I heard that too.

I tried to speak. The body's eyes opened and I was there in an instant. I lifted an arm. Completely artificial, but functional. I turned my head. A blinding light greeted me from the left, so I turned right.

The reflection of a window showed in the tube that formerly housed me. The sky was gray. I guessed Ea, but it could have been Valhalla.

"Arrgh…" My voice was dusty and deep, like it hadn't been used in years. My head hurt like everything else. "Why do I keep waking up like this?" I coughed, spitting up a little blood.

I lifted the sheet, finding the wound closed and fairly healed as well. The body hurt, but moved perfectly with each passing second. I gathered up my strength—what was left of it—and stood. My legs almost collapsed under me from the weight and under-use.

Finally, I stood supporting myself. My eyes had adjusted to the light by now and I surveyed the room wearily. It was bare, save for the table, glass tube, a set of armor, and a security camera. The light on it blinked indicating that the camera was recording.

I picked up the armor. It was designed for my body, a BlackWarGreymon. Piece by piece I placed it over my body, slowly but surely covering the implants. The arm guards were the last pieces that I took up. The claws on both the body and arm plates were dull, but they would do the trick.

I looked at the camera and scowled. That would be the first thing to go. And it was. With one swift, painful motion I swiped the camera off its mounting and destroyed it completely.

An invisible door opened on the side opposite me. Millenniumon stepped in with his attack charged and aimed. "Try anything and you die," he told me harshly. "Now sit." I sat. He shut the door behind him. "You are expected in Neflhiem within one week for inspection."

"And if I refuse?"

"You don't."

So that was it. I didn't have any choice in the matter. Either I did what they said, or they made me do what they said. It's funny how the world works sometimes, when you think you have it figured out it punches you in the face for no reason.

The implants in my arms were starting to come online. A faint hum from one of them could be heard. Millenniumon grinned widely. "You have an obligation to thank the one who saved your life," he said from his left head.

"I'm pretty sure he was the one to take it in the first place." That earned me a trip across the room into the glass tube. It shattered, the shards cutting into my flesh. At least I think it was flesh.

I wasn't sure. I definitely knew it hurt, but it didn't feel like flesh. It seemed more solid and thick. It was mine, but it wasn't—real? is that the right term? I didn't know what it was.

I pulled a dentenite shard from my body. Millenniumon laughed when it didn't ooze blood. Almost like it was closed when the shard left, like a rubber stopper in a vacuum tube.

I stood, forcing the leg implants to turn on. "You are sick, twisted and not worthy of any sort of respect." I was surprised when he didn't attack me. "I'll have no say in what goes on in my life, will I?"

"You are mine," he replied, making clear that he possessed the means to kill me instantly. "You are my most important project to date; a testament to bio-genetic engineering."

Optical installments started coming to life, making me blink rapidly. Millenniumon laughed at that. "Your implants are running diagnostics on themselves. That's why you are blinking." I hated the way he was observing me, like I was an animal in zoo.

"As my project, you are under my care." This was why I wasn't strapped down to a torture table.

"The Enemy treats you badly." Nothing in his expressions betrayed any sort emotion. The Enemy had taught him to hide his emotions well. "Under your care. You'll not do the same as your master has."

Thank God I'm a Mind User. It was the only way I could tell that Millenniumon was feeling shame and guilt. His body language and speech patterns would not say anything otherwise, but his thoughts raced with remorse.

"Come." He slipped out the door and I followed, keeping a relatively safe distance behind him. Millenniumon spoke again as we walked. "I am not my master," he said. "In my own opinion, Master has taken his conquest too far."

That was slightly reassuring. Even he was weary of the Enemy's plans. "But that begs the question. Why do you continue to follow him?"

"You will serve me, not Master," he continued without answering. "As such, I will assign you quarters to my liking." So I would be working for him, not his master. Easy to deal with, though it was still not preferable to freedom.

"In what capacity will I be working?" I'd better get the information now. Millenniumon did not answer this time. He walked silently, still keeping an eye on me so that I couldn't escape.

The corridor was longer than I expected. We must have passed hundreds of tiny cells, full of equipment used for experimentation. Our footsteps echoed on the tile floor, making it so that every once and a while a face would pop up inside the observation windows.

Usually they were deformed and unrecognizable to anyone but Millenniumon. Some of them shouted for me to run, others whimpered unintelligibly for sustenance. I was sure they were made into slaves, the intelligent ones used for assistants in Millenniumon's research.

I knew I should have run. But I would have been killed instantly. Each of those echoes chanted the word death at a steady pace. It hit me then that I didn't know where I was being led. Millenniumon had not said anything after I asked what I would be doing.

He stopped abruptly, opening a large pair of doors. "Enter," he said quietly. I did, and was taken into a large, empty chamber. "There are no cameras or recording devices in this room. I am the only one who knows of its existence.

"I have been in this room countless times thinking. The walls are magnetically charged and connected to implants in the prisoners' brains. No Mind User can penetrate this room."

"And you brought me here why?" It was then that I noticed the room wasn't totally empty. The walls up to a certain height were folded in. I guessed that they were tables used for surgery, but I couldn't know for sure. "This is where you experiment?"

Why was I asking questions? My first priority was escaping. While I didn't remember where I came from or who I was, I remembered perfectly who the Enemy was. I wasn't about to let myself go under again without a fight.

"This is where I plot." The doors closed. "As I said, Master has taken this war too far from the original plan. He is turning this world into a desert." A table crept out from the wall.

"You're plotting against him?" Undermining his own master? So Millenniumon isn't evil? Well, just a tad. I'd seen the faces of his slaves. "I would have thought you chose to follow him."

Several other platforms came out of the wall, each with a different array of tools and unfinished projects. The beast turned one of his heads toward me. "In the beginning I did choose him. I chose to follow him because he told me he was going to unite the Digital World."

"And he went too far?"

His hands were busy working on a remote control of some sort. He spoke as he worked. "When he destroyed Mt. Nebo was when I realized that he had no intention of fulfilling his promise. Nebo was my home."

He pressed a button on his remote and I went blind. Within a few moments I could see again, but it left me slightly shaken. "That remote controls these implants?" He confirmed, forcing me to walk in circles.

"Master will want you to be controlled somehow," he said. "Three days from now, I'll transport you to Neflhiem for inspection. Once you pass that, I'll disable the remote."

I was getting tired of his tests. And just why did he not just let me act like I was in control? I decided to ask him. "He'll know the difference. You'd have to be able to think to act like that. And even the best couldn't hide the fact that they're sentient."

I blacked out for a moment. "What was that?" I asked when I came to, still standing. "Was that a test?"

"Yes."

"So I won't be sentient?" This was just getting better and better every minute. "What happens after inspection? He'll find out then, won't he?" There was a plan in place already. The beast wouldn't be so stupid as to let his guard down after only a preliminary test.

"I'll take you once more for surgery, then tie your mind into those of sentient workers, like I did with this room." He stretched my arms out, then brought them to my side again. "After that, you will help me plot our escape."

"Our escape?"

Millenniumon turned and glared at me. "I destroyed your memories of your previous life under Master's orders. But I purposely left your memories of him." I shuddered. Millenniumon was using me to help him escape, that much was clear.

I was glad to help. Remembering all the atrocities that the Enemy had committed, I could show a little empathy toward the beast. But I had to stop and remember what Millenniumon was guilty of too.

But on the other hand, if he was forced to do it that would be different. But the beast willingly chose to follow his master. He had a free will, and that is impossible to break no matter what.

"Our escape," he said, turning back to his work. "Keep that in mind." He turned me around a few times and then letting me rest on one of the platforms. He opened the back of the remote and started fiddling with the internal workings.

"What are you going to do if you escape?" There isn't a snowball's chance in Hell that the world was just going to let him off the hook for his crimes. And I was seriously debating sabotaging his attempts at freedom just to punish him. "You won't survive in the outside world."

The beast sighed, but continued his work. "I intend to take full responsibility for my actions." He was going to die. There was no other option for him. The courts would inevitably find him guilty, and if he stayed, Millenniumon would die at the hands of the Enemy.

He started testing my reflexes via the remote. "So you're willing to die? It would happen either way and there isn't any chance of avoiding it." The nerves around my eyes started to twitch.

"Try to keep your talking to a minimum." It was the only time in my life that I've ever seen a mute button for a person. After that I couldn't speak unless he let me, which wasn't very often during his battery.

He didn't do much talking either though. It seemed like he was slightly depressed at the prospect of not being able to enjoy freedom for anymore than a few minutes. As he continued with my reflex tests, he didn't look at me either. Almost as if I was a symbol of what he hated most about himself.

One of a few gifts I'd been blessed with after loosing the bulk of my memories was empathy, the ability to place one's self in someone else's place. And after speaking with the beast, I could see his point of view. But it was only because I'd not known anything else except the Enemy's tyranny.

Still a gift though, I mused. Could you at least answer one question? He wouldn't reply to telepathy either. He was totally engulfed in his work, focussing solely on the little device that kept me silent.

How would we get out? I still got nothing from him. I guessed it was because he didn't trust me. Although in his position, trust is not something easily given. Have you even thought that far ahead?

"Yes."

He must have been getting frustrated with me. Or maybe he was beginning to trust me? Unlikely. Could you do the surgery here? I didn't like the idea of being unconscious in front of the Enemy. But there was an upside to it, I had to admit. I wouldn't have to worry about performing perfectly.

"Not enough time."

Alright, I can deal with that. And then it occurred to me. From an hour ago, he went from flinging me across rooms to embarrassed silence. I was witness to the real Millenniumon that no one ever saw. He was hiding himself still, but he wasn't acting for his master.

So why are you quiet? From the corner of my eye I saw him press one of the buttons on the remote. A fraction of a second later I was immersed in the darkness of unconsciousness again.

* * *

Again I heard voices. Vaguely to where I could not understand them, but I was sure I heard voices. My body was numb and so was my mind. I couldn't use any of my higher brain functions. My eyes also seemed to be covered in a film of some sort so I couldn't see clearly.

A figure came into view. It was dark and bulky, with wiry appendages. But much more than that I couldn't say other than that from the outline it was Apocalymon. I was warming up again and things were becoming clearer. This was probably the test that Millenniumon was talking about.

I couldn't think direct coherent thoughts, but at least I was awake. And the voices were becoming more distinct. I could make out the beasts rasp and his words, though it sounded monotonous from my perspective.

"As you can see, Master," he was saying, "the subject is completely under my control. All of the implants are working steadily and the slave driver in his mind is at peek efficiency."

I heard a grunt to his left. Then a second voice. It was low and quiet, as if hating to admit that he was impressed. "Give me the remote." My heart skipped a beat and my subconscious screamed in protest to the awful things I would be subjected to.

The beast protested as well. "Sir," he said. "Why do you need to see the remote? I designed it as a lab assistant for me, Master. None of his functions would interest you." My eyes had adjusted to where the film did not inhibit my vision by now and I saw Millenniumon go down in a burst of electricity.

The Enemy's soft-spoken voice continued as if nothing had happened to his servant. "Now, give me the remote." The beast did so, still unfailing to point out that his master would not find anything of value.

A nebulous feeling of terror washed over me. It was all I was capable of at the moment. Millenniumon had promised me that I would be blacked out for this. But he was wrong. I wasn't able to think or talk or move, but I was still awake and feeling every emotion in its most powerful form.

It was the only sense that was perfectly clear. And at present, I performed for the Enemy. And my dignity, as little as I had, was shredded in an instant. Nothing in my life would compare to that experience.

But it was at that time that I was the most thankful that I had been incapacitated like I was. If I hadn't been, I know I would have gone straight for his throat. Then onto his two cronies, one of which had worked to save my life. But the fact didn't change that I was seeing red.

And a new sense of fear seized me. I couldn't control my emotions because of the inability to use my higher brain functions. It was almost an out-of-body experience. And I could feel my body being corrupted by the uncontrolled Red Factor.

A flurry of hatred welled up in me for what was happening. I hated the Enemy with every ounce of my being. And if anyone was going to destroy him, it would be me. And his pet Apocalymon… laughing uncontrollably at my humiliation. I was going to strangle him with his own arms.

The feeling finally subsided when I saw Millenniumon. A distressed mega at the end of his rope. My empathy kicked in again and the Red Factor halted. Unable to express myself though, I couldn't even breathe a sigh of relief that Red Factor would not be my death.

It was only a small comfort though. Quite a bit of damage had been done to me. The disease had already corrupted my base genetics and data. I was fused with my implants, never to have them removed. And if by some miracle I evolved again, it would be corrupted beyond recognition.

Their laughing stopped at long last and the Enemy seemed pleased. Resignedly and a little spitefully, he said, "You did well." The remote dropped into Millenniumon's eager hands.

"Thank you, Master." He turned to leave, forcing me to walk behind him. As if I needed any more incentive than to get away from the monster that the Enemy was. "Sir," he said, dreading the response from his master. "I do need to perform one last surgery on him to install the voice recognition system so I won't have to fumble with the remote."

An angry sigh and his master's reply. "Very well. But see that it recognizes my voice, or that you keep it locked away in your labs." Millenniumon nodded and backed away slowly. I followed, still under the power of the remote, yet just as glad to be away from his master.

The thrown room was behind us now, and sealed off by a massive set of double doors. Millenniumon sighed heavily. "You're awake, aren't you?" He knew I couldn't respond. But still, somehow the message got across. "That was the real test, to see if I was trying to oust him."

I already knew that. The clues were obvious to me, as they should have been obvious to anyone. But still, the "act" went off with only one pretty major hitch. As soon as he deactivated the remote, I was going to give him a piece of my mind—what was left of it after Red Factor, that is.

Minutes later, in a lab strikingly similar to the one in Valhalla, I had my chance. Millenniumon deactivated the control, standing within perfect distance of me. For a moment, I considered just letting it slide.

He checked me over, inspecting any possible damage the Enemy might have done. I stood completely still, until one of his heads was at my eye level. WHAM! He recoiled from the sudden shock of my fist colliding with his face. And quite to my surprise, he didn't react.

"I had that coming," he replied gravely. I knew what he was thinking now. This was the reason he wanted to escape so badly. He had finally grown sick of his master's cruelty to others and to himself.

"I'm going to be corrupted," I told him bluntly. "Red Factor."

That was all he needed to know at that point. And all I wanted to say for that matter. There was no way that I was going to evolve to a natural form after this. But if it was the cost of freedom, I didn't really care.

"Figured as much. It shouldn't affect the surgery."

Now, why did his lack of concern make me worry? Was it normal? Most likely it was. I found the calm in his voice disquieting to my own peace. I gulped. I have to say that I shouldn't have been so unnerved by it all. Red Factor is, as yet, untreatable. There was nothing anyone could do about it except the Creator.

But if my luck kept on its current course, the chances of divine intervention would be questionable at best. At the very worst, I would suffer the same fate as the drones: having my consciousness sucked into the Enemy's being and tortured until my life cycle expired. Unfortunately for me, in a battle of odds, the latter of the two would win.

Yes, though, I was disconcerted by the reply I received. Millenniumon had shown me more compassion than I would have imagined he was capable of. But he had also shown more indifference. It was like I was a means to an end for him. (Which didn't bother me much because we'd be sharing the same end).

"So this is no problem to you? I'm going to be corrupted because of your heads' collective incompetence!" Control yourself. It wasn't his fault… Trying to calm myself wasn't working very well. He admitted he had a punch in the head coming to him. He can't be all bad.

"There is nothing I could do, so why worry about it?" As much as I hated to admit it, the beast had a point. One I'd known the whole time, too. It was me though. I was the one suffering through this, wasn't I?

"You should worry more about me and whether I'll help you." His face registered more indifference. We both understood the situation. I didn't have a choice but to help him or suffer the ultimate in torture. "Can you at least tell me how bad you think it is?"

"You don't want to know," he said, dismissing the question. "And I wouldn't want to worry you about something you can't help."

"I'm already worried."

"I'll have to check internal damage first before I can make a diagnosis. Other than that, I couldn't say." Well, that wasn't what I was hoping to hear. He probably didn't care one way or the other whether I was corrupted or not.

The real question was why, though. I had quite a few ponderings going through my mind, one of which was how he got his form. Was he corrupted? I wasn't stupid enough to ask. He might black me out again and put in a control device for real.

And anyway, escaping Neflhiem wasn't going to be easy. The Enemy would have guards at all the access points. He'd have security cameras; booby traps set up to kill any intruders. And Millenniumon was going to sneak past them? I was going the sneak past them?

"When are you going to perform my surgery?"

"I could easily begin now if it would make you worry less." Why would he want me to worry less? Confused, I was. Then, as if reading my thoughts, "I can't have you paranoid if we are to escape without detection. It would make you a liability that we cannot afford."

Oh joy. "I guess we should just get this over with then, shouldn't we?" The beast nodded. After this procedure, I would be free to speak my mind—literally—whenever I wanted. And of course, we'd be plotting our escape and the eventual downfall of the Enemy.

Millenniumon punched a button on a wall and a metal platform rose from the floor. As directed, I laid myself down on the table. I it was cold, just like a torture table and briefly I wondered if that's what its original purpose was. Either because of that thought or the coolness of the counter, I shuddered violently and then laughed it off as best I could.

The beast seemed to share in my mirth for once as his eyes lit temporarily. I couldn't say for sure though, because he had just stuck a needle in my arm full of sedatives. Almost as quickly as if I'd been shut off by that remote, I was out cold.

* * *

My perception of the passage of time, I believe. So I couldn't possibly tell how long it was before I woke again. In Neflhiem, the sun there only shines for a few hours each day, and the light is so pale that there are no shadows. During the dark hours, flood lamps lit the factories and complexes.

From what I knew of the place, it was entirely industrial and fueled by the harsh winds that continually plagued the surface. Drones were working the factories like bees in a hive, overseen by one powerful mega that was conscious but restrained by electric shock collars.

I didn't know how I knew what Neflhiem looked like. The information had just shown up out of nowhere. Another gift from the beast if I had to guess. It was almost like the Creator had abandoned the place and left it to rot. The sky was starless, and lightless except for the pitiful excuse for a sun.

It was much better inside, according to what I had been given. An overall feeling of dread prevailed, though, even inside the confines of slave cells. It was an invasive train of thought, penetrating to my very core. I had known fear and even full-blown terror, but never from the vantage point of the hopeless.

That's the exact point of view I had now. From the feel of it, the surgery had been a complete success. But the side effects were almost not worth it. I could actually see through the eyes of the drones, hear the echoes of their consciousnesses; their fears and hopes, pains and sufferings, and worst of all the constant knowledge that they'd never be free. It was enough to make even the strongest willed Digimon break apart inside.

But another, much more welcome reaction was that I could now understand the beast. He sat staring at me as I woke, knowing the exact turmoil I was going through. It was the first time that I realized that Millenniumon had gone through and performed the procedure on himself, and failed miserably. He knew the drones, but didn't have the same security that I had.

And because of that, his thoughts were the only consistent ones in the whole cacophony of emotions. Both of us were silent in thought and speech for quite a while. Then I broke it: "Now you know what the world feels."

It was the entire reason for his change in attitude. It took the destruction of his home city, subsequently the massacre of his entire FmU, and then the thoughts of all the drones he had helped create to bring about his renaissance. He was stubborn for sure, and had at one point held firm a deep belief in the Creator.

I knew the beast now. I knew his character, his thoughts, his convictions and his purpose most of all. He was not going to be content just in dying for his crimes. He wanted to correct them as best he could. An attempt to try and change the past. As far as I knew, my existence was solely to be his spokesperson: an arbitrator for him to try and plead for his life.

I now had a sense of what he was trying to accomplish. Then and there, my view about the beast changed irrevocably. Without a second thought or a single doubt in my mind, I told him I would help.

In the next several weeks we began to plot and scheme. Of course, I lived up to my "function" of the beast's assistant in the lab, but never more than monitoring vitals and handing him tools.

On several occasions, I had heard Millenniumon speak of an underground passage to the gate. When we worked in the labs, it was not turning ordinary people to slaves but instead, repairing damage that had been done, then placing them in that passage so they could escape.

Ours, however, would not be so simple. According to Millenniumon, the Enemy didn't know of the tunnel's existence. So if we were to just waltz in there and try to walk out the other side, the tracking device on Millenniumon's restraining collar would alert him and we'd be destroyed before we were half way through.

In that we encountered a horrible and almost impassible problem. How in the world were we going to deactivate the tracker? The credit for finding the solution goes to the beast and one of the "drones" we were supposed to be creating. If we couldn't beat the tracker, we would go around it. It was such a simple idea; it was a shame that I didn't think of it first.

Instead of trying to take off the collar, we would scatter the signal that it beamed back to the Enemy. We would appear to be in one place, but in total reality, the Enemy wouldn't know we were missing until after we were in Muspelshiem.

The guards at the gate would be easy as well. Like the drones, the guards were working on autopilot, so they would recognize their superior (i.e. Millenniumon) and let us pass without a problem. So simple a plan, only a genius could think of it.

With that in mind, there was only one last detail to work out. Getting out of Neflhiem wouldn't be a problem in the slightest. The problem would be how to get out of the Palace Complex. Security was tight here, and so were the guards. The guards had been specifically programmed by the Enemy himself to not let anyone in or out without his pass code, which was changed regularly. That ten digit alphanumerical code was the only thing that separated us from freedom.

Both of us had spent hours trying to hack into the Enemy's personal database without any semblance of luck. At long last, we decided that that course of action was ultimately going to end in the discovery of our plan and both of our executions. Plan "B" was even riskier.

But it was the only plan we had left to choose from. Again, it was simple, and the tunnel would be useless because of the change. Millenniumon was going to lie to the Enemy's face, telling him that we needed to move the clone works to the more advanced facilities in Anshar.

It still had its risks. The rebellion had been laying siege to Anshar for almost twenty years. It was quite possible that Anshar could be taken before we had the chance to get there. Or Millenniumon could be captured before our escape attempt and killed, along with me.

Neither of us fancied the idea of approaching the Enemy. My own proclivities toward the idea were based fully on the bond that had developed between me and the beast. Our time together had now seen fit to form a rather stable friendship with each other. Considering his history, I'd personally say it was a strange relationship. It was also the only one I had to fall back on.

I had reservations about what might happen to Millenniumon if he did not successfully convince his master to let us move the clone works to Anshar. Secondary effects included my deletion as well, which just added more incentive to not get caught.

And then it was time. I had followed Millenniumon, acting stony and spaced-out like all drones. He rehearsed his part well, as did I. And when we entered the thrown room, for what was hopefully the last time; I was not disappointed to see that the Enemy did not like my presence.

"Millenniumon," he said with casually building anger, "why is that here?" I was glad he couldn't hear my thoughts. I was thinking, but not speaking, a torrent of profanities that I wanted to spew at him.

"It is my personal assistant, sir," Millenniumon replied, telling me to bow mentally. "It has been a guinea pig for me, sir, and the latest test requires my constant observation."

Quite to my surprise, he bought it. Either that or he was playing us. For a fact though, he didn't have a clue to the real reason I was there. I wanted to hear this for myself.

"Very well. If you must insist on its constant companionship, I will make no objections." He leaned forward in his seat. "Now is there a reason that you are here? Or are you just wasting my time?"

"No, sir."

Here it comes… The moment of truth. My throat tightened due to nervousness. Involuntarily, I held my breath and then noticed that it had happened and quietly let out the breath so as not to draw attention to myself.

"You asked for a status report on the clone works," the beast continued. "I came to inform you that we will need to move the works to more advanced facilities." Millenniumon paused.

"This project is the most important that I have given you, Millenniumon." A burst of static came from Millenniumon's conscious as his collar activated. "I specifically told you when you started that whatever you needed to do; you were to do it without asking me.

"Your constant insistence on asking me about everything has become a thorn in my side that I will no longer tolerate. The next time you must ask my permission for something, you and your guinea pig will be destroyed immediately."

"Then we will move to Anshar at once sir." His tone suggested that he was sincerely grateful for the Enemy's cooperation. We moved from the thrown room back to our sanctuary on the other side of the Palace Complex.

The plan had so far been a success. We were honestly packing the clone works, not that I knew much about it, for the trip to Anshar. But we were not moving them there to even fake working on them. Subtlety would have dictated otherwise, but we were going to hand over the plans to the Rebellion at our defection. All we wanted in exchange was asylum in the new Digital World.

The next three days we spent packing the clone works, and other experiments that we thought might be valuable to the Rebellion. Soon enough, with fake drones in tow, our entourage entered the city of Anshar.

All of us celebrated freely for the first time in ages. Millenniumon even took the time to sabotage the security system, just to irritate the Enemy. But only a day and a half into our celebration, it was cut short.

The doors to the palace slammed open revealing the Enemy, angry and flustered. "Who did it!" was the piercing cry. Millenniumon came out, faking the urgency of getting the clone works completed. "There is a saboteur stalking about the palace. Find him or you will not live to see the next full moon!"

"Sir, I was not aware that security had been compromised."

The Enemy growled fiercely at Millenniumon. "Begin searching at once and start with your drones." The beast nodded and turned to leave. "Activate the clone works before anything else."

Millenniumon unwittingly frowned, provoking his master to backhand him. "I said to activate the clone works! And send out our legions." I grinned slightly, hearing the desperation in the Enemy's voice. It sounded like the Rebellion was finally going to take Anshar.

The Enemy took off outside the palace and headed toward the front lines. Millenniumon looked at me, knowing I was hiding in a corner. "The master is desperate," he said. "Go and activate the clone works. Hopefully it will self-destruct."

"What will you be doing?"

"I want to know what is happening out on the front. I'm going to check the security cameras that are still intact and find out how we can aid them." And he went. I gathered that the situation was not going to end well for the Enemy.

But the clone works… I had to activate it? Of course I knew how to operate the machine, but the risks involved in using it were high and I wasn't really willing to take them. However, if we were going to fool him, we needed to flip the switch.

I went to the labs, making sure to take as much time as I could get away with. The only thing that provided any comfort right now was that I knew that our freedom was drawing near.

The labs were getting closer. Maybe I could just fake activating it? Nah, that wouldn't work. They'd know the difference immediately and Millenniumon would be killed.

I opened the lab doors and then shut them behind me. Now where is that panel? Ah—there it is! A frighteningly small computer bank in the corner operated the clone works. Even smaller, a button that made the whole thing work.

I approached it hesitantly; weary of the device's history of backfiring. I had very little understanding of the science behind it or its purpose, except for knowing that it was supposed to clone the Enemy. But anyone who worked on it had a three out of four chance of getting electrocuted.

My heart pounded and my nerves quaked. Alright. You'll be fine, I kept telling myself. I didn't believe it in the slightest. Just do… I jabbed the array with my fist and ran for cover.

"Clone works activation successful."

­Wha?

"Initiating transfer… Transfer procedure halted: Target required."

"Target?" Ok, now I was lost. Millenniumon had failed to mention that the machine needed a target. Let alone what the target was for. "Query," I said, ponderously. "What is the target required for?"

A large claw started resting on my shoulder. Millenniumon was standing above me, watching the machine with a stone-like gaze. He too approached the clone works and entered a command unknown to me.

The machine beeped and then confirmed. "Target accepted. Target acquired: Earth: Human female. Re-initializing transfer sequence. Transfer in progress. Estimated time to completion: one hundred forty-six seconds. Time elapsed: twenty seconds."

"Earth?" I'd never heard of it. To my limited insight, there was no plane called "Earth" anywhere. Logically, Millenniumon must have targeted a non-existent place so that the clone would come into being. But then, how does that explain "human"?

"Earth is not part of the Digital World. But compared to our world, the Humans are weak and the clone will be cursed with a form that has no innate abilities." So that explained that. "The machine needs a real target or else it is programmed to kill the user."

Millenniumon sighed. "I will not be able to go with you," he said.

Oh bull. "You're going with me or I'm going kill you myself. I did not spend the last three months in hell for you to just give up!" Besides, with the plans he was going to give the Rebellion, they would have to spare his life.

"The Sovereigns are hell-bent on destroying any last remnant of my master. Including me," he said. "No matter what I do, the rest of my existence will be spent in Neflhiem." They were going to spare him anyway. Just, they were going to send them all to Neflhiem.

It bothered me. "What about the programs and technology?" He wasn't answering immediately like he usually did. Something was terribly wrong. "What happened to the programs?" He still didn't answer.

Instead he turned away. "What did you do?" I asked him again and again, each time becoming more and more afraid for him. I knew him now. He was like a brother who was on his deathbed.

"The database has been destroyed," he told me somberly. Not possible. That room was under lock and key, and it was surrounded by thirteen inches of titanium digizoid. Nothing could have destroyed it but a computer…

"The security systems? All of it is deleted?" My worst fears were confirmed when the security alarm went off. The gates to the city had been breached and the Enemy had had to fall back.

"There isn't anything I can do anymore, except wait patiently for them to exile me." He walked out onto a near by balcony to watch the incoming invasion. "You can still make it out. All you have to do is get out of the palace. The guards have all been moved to hold them off, so it will be a clear shot for you."

I could help. I knew I could. I wasn't going to leave without him. Not after everything he'd done to hurt the Enemy's cause. He'd saved my life and given me a new body to live, he'd targeted a world that was still forming, and he'd made sure that the Rebellion would take Anshar…

"I'm not leaving without you. I'll testify for you. They'd have to believe me, right?"

"The Sovereigns would claim that you were corrupted." He was right, as usual. But it didn't help the problem of getting him to come with me. I could probably hide him if he used his shrinking program. Then he would be free. All he'd have to do was devolve to a lower form.

Then, "That won't work. My data is not capable of sustaining any sort of de-evolution. It would kill me to let that much data dissipate."

"You just can't give up though!"

"I NEVER SAID I WAS GIVING UP," he yelled, grabbing my throat. He whispered feverishly with a pounding anger. "I still have faith that I'll make it through. I will die in Neflhiem, but it will be as a free man! Now go and save yourself before I throw you to off this balcony."

"You'll be free," I rasped, clutching his arm as he held me above the floor. "I promise that you'll be free." He loosened his grip and put me down. "Just don't give up that hope."

"Go!"

* * *

There I stood, surrounded by six ultimates with nothing better to do than bug someone too tired to do anything about it. They were young too. Even with all of my implants, I wouldn't be able to take all of them. Maybe one or two of them, but not all six.

"Old man," one of them called. "Are ya gonna fight or just stand there all day?" I wasn't going to honor him with a response. He was young and stupid, and not fit to be a servant of a servant. "Heh! If you aren't going to make a move, than we will!"

The Leomon wannabe dashed at me with his followers in tow. If I made any sort of attempt at fighting back, it would put me in a position that I couldn't get out of. Even if I won, the courts would look at me, study my implants, and then decide that I had an unfair advantage.

So I let them attack without making a move to even run. These punks were going to get what they deserved, even if it killed me. They would be sentenced to serve time in the penal colonies in Muspelshiem. But I would be pretty worse for the wear.

Small price to pay, I thought as they began pummeling me. Each blow was painful, but worth it to see them in their shackles. Heh, maybe they'll devolve me and I can dump the implants.

One of them landed a haymaker to my muzzle and I fell from the shock. I wouldn't last much longer on the ground, but it was all right with me. I had nothing important to live for.

Except my promise. Yeah, I still remembered my promise to Millenniumon. Though it was three hundred years ago and he had most likely forgotten. What am I doing letting these kids destroy me? I can't let myself go until I make sure he's free.

"BLACK TORNADO!" The children surrounding me jumped back, blackened by the dark flames that engulfed my body. "You should leave before you get hurt," I told them.

"CYCLONE TORNADO!" The leader attacked me, spinning into his triple play. Two or three nothing. This was going to be a piece of cake.

I caught his leg and twisted it, driving his face into the ground as hard as I could. A loud snap issued from his leg as I crushed it beneath my foot, breaking it clean. "I told you to leave before you get hurt."

The rest, seeing their fallen leader tried to jump me the same way, and each getting the same treatment: a broken leg or tail. For the first time in a long time, I enjoyed myself. These children were trying to make a fool of myself, and yet ended up getting themselves turned into bone dust.

My mind was on autopilot now, kicking and dodging and generally destroying them without hesitation. And I didn't care. I wanted revenge. Not on them, but on the one who had failed. I wanted to hurt something, and they were the ones who I vented on.

It felt good to lose it. To just let the anger envelop me and control me. I knew that Red Factor would eventually set in, but it just felt so good to hurt something… someone. I lost my vision, I lost my voice, and I lost all control of my body as my implants started working on their own.

Just like three hundred years ago, I could feel myself fusing with them. Nothing would stop it this time, and I didn't want anything to stop it. I would be stronger, more powerful, able to keep my promise. And then I would be ready to die…

What? What am I saying? This couldn't be right! Stop! Stop it! I couldn't control it. I was seeing red. And it wasn't turning back… Stop! No, I can't let this happen! Searing pain, burning flames that were not my own. In the midst of the chaos I was causing, my body started ripping apart.

"Aaaaaaaaaaargh!" It was too much for me to handle, but my body wouldn't shut down. I couldn't escape it, the pain and agony of my own hatred of myself. It wouldn't stop until I was completely fused with my implants and my hatred. I was changing for the worst.

Even my screams stopped when the pain turned inward, like I was going to explode. It wouldn't quite. It just rumbled on inside of me, never easing and always getting worse and worse and worse.

I didn't know what was going on around me. All I could focus on was the hurting, the suffering which I had caused myself. My knees hit the ground, followed by my arms in voluntarily keeping me from making a face plant. It hurt all over, especially when my arms collapsed and I fell completely to the ground.

I don't know how long I lay there, wreathing in pain and finally finding my voice to scream again. I convulsed and shut my eyes as tight as I could, hoping to block out the sight of everything being tinted red. And suddenly, with one excruciating and disgusting sounding splat, it all stopped.

My mind was clear again, my vision had no tint to it, every muscle and implant was functioning normally. But with there was something wrong. I heard voices murmuring around me, calling me corrupted. I felt appendages that weren't supposed to be attached to my body. My form had changed into—something—a beast born of hell. A horrible wave of nausea washed over me when I realized what had happened. Four arms—from forms that I'd never had. Wings which weren't at all a natural thing for me to have. Kaimeramon. What did I do to myself? The people who'd gathered around stared and whispered. I knew what they were thinking. They all thought I was a monster, a freak of nature that should be destroyed.

"He should be killed," one of the crowd said boldly. With so many there inclined to agree, I fled, taking to the sky as fast as I could. Where I would go, I didn't know. But I wasn't ready to die. I'd live alone until I could find away to keep my word.

But I didn't know how long that'd be, or whether or not I'd ever find a way. But I would research and look. I'd never give it up. My actions though, would keep me exiled and out of public life. It wouldn't matter where I went, as long as no one ever found me. Yggdrassil would be good. Deep forest and easy to get lost in. A small cabin would be totally invisible to anyone who happened to look for something like that. All I'd need was supplies, and those would be easy to come across.

I flew fast, toward the gate to the next plane. Yggdrassil was still several thousand miles away. I'd make it, though. I'd be alone, but I'd make it. Nothing was going to stop me except for divine intervention, which if my luck kept on its present course, was probably the one thing that I could expect. Oh well. I was going to head that way anyway. I was going to make sure I wouldn't fail myself—or my friend—again. All I needed for now was a tail wind and some time to think. And from the looks of it, I'd have plenty of both


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Hello to you all. For the record, I do not own Digimon. I own Kai, the universe in which this is set, and the computer which this is being typed on. If you read this, I only ask you of one thing. REVIEW THE STORY or face my Crazy Aunt Betty and her toxic sludge. Evil cackle

* * *

**DIGITAL WAR:**

**Destroy, Create, Control**

"Sir, he'll need much more work than we have time for." I heard voices. "He's under sedation right now…"

"Do not question what I say." A scream. "That collar is on you for a reason, Millenniumon. _Never_ counter me."

Millenniumon replied in a hoarse voice. "Yes, sir. But please allow me more time. His body requires much repair work and the facilities here are just barely advanced enough to keep him alive."

I heard a disgruntled sigh. "Very well. Move him to Neflhiem and I will supervise the project myself. The clone works are almost complete anyway."

Footsteps. Very heavy footsteps and a long, depressed sigh from Millenniumon. "I don't know what he's thinking, but…" He was quiet as he opened the door. A light flipped on and I was momentarily blinded. Apparently, he saw me right away. "Good, you're awake."

He came toward me, both his heads looking over me carefully. I decided to try and speak. "I can't feel my body," I said in a gravely voice.

Millenniumon looked at me. "Your body is incapable of movement," he said tersely. "I've been constructing a new one." He lifted the sheet that covered my body and a craned my neck to see what had happened.

Bruised, bloody, butchered to where I couldn't recognize it even if I could remember. "How did I get here," I asked, not expecting an answer.

"Master found you on the verge of death after a bombing raid. You were given to me for experimentation." The beast busied himself with preparing surgical tools. I gulped when I saw the blades and instruments. He didn't seem to notice.

"What are you going to do with those?"

"Prepare you for transport." He pulled out a syringe filled with a clear jell. I gulped again. He stuck me with it. I yelped loudly and he backhanded me hard.

----

I don't know how long it was before I woke. When I did, it was dark as pitch and I couldn't feel a thing. Not even my head this time around.

I heard shuffling. A light flipped on and Millenniumon stepped in, not noticing that I was awake. "If you think I can't see that you're awake, you're dead wrong. And you'll be dead if you try to escape."

I tried to speak, but my voice was gone. _What the hell did he do to me!_ I could still think. _If he's a Mind User, he'll answer. _He slipped a sheet off a table, revealing a dead BlackWarGreymon. _Dead! And still there? ­_

He laughed, obviously enjoying his work. "Your new body," he stated simply. "If you had any idea of what I had to do to keep Master from eating it, you'd be thanking me." He removed the chest plate from the corpse's armor.

A large gash in the center was caked over with dried blood. _He must have been partially organic,_ I thought to myself. Millenniumon proceeded in removing the rest of the armor, plate by plate. Several implants were embedded within the skin and more than a few limbs had been replaced.

The beast removed the helmet. _Oh dear god… He left the eyes open! The sick bastard._ He laughed. I diverted my sight to other parts of the body. Its neck was metal as well as part of its stomach area. _But the eyes…_

"As of now, the tube that encases your consciousness is your home. When the time comes, you will be transferred into this body. Master will want to see whether my experiment has gone properly, so you will be taken to his chambers for inspection."

_Tube?_ No wonder I couldn't move.

He didn't even pause for a breath as he opened the cut in the corpse's chest even wider. His upper pair of hands moved delicately around inside the body, probably taking out unnecessary body parts.

He removed the body's heart and placed it in a glass jar. Then he proceeded to remove the body's lungs and stomach, placing them each in a jar of its own. _What're you going to do with them?_

"Master ordered me to restrain myself from using the internal organs for the experiment." A servant entered the room, rolling a cart around to the table where the beast was working. "Cyber-electronic implants will do you fine for your task."

I was intrigued, but still scared witless. Again, he went to work, using the tools he had laid out before him like an artist. But still the fact remained. They were turning me into a weapon to destroy innocents.

I didn't know what had happened before, but I did know when not to want to have anything to do with someone. If there's ever been a time when I believed in the Creator, it was right then as I prayed for some kind of an escape rout. Unfortunately, He didn't provide one.

My thoughts wandered. How long had I been there? How much of what the beast was doing did I miss? I thought that maybe I was going insane. I turned to how I could escape.

Glass tube? No, glass couldn't keep a Shadow confined. Magnetically charged dentenite would do it. But that would have a tint to it.

I felt an itch. _Felt…_ Millenniumon was testing the body's nerve system. And I was feeling it! The itch was getting worse. How am I supposed to scratch an itch with no body at all? I'd heard of torture, but this was agonizing.

_Damn you. Quit that!_ My captor backhanded the corps's muzzle, causing me to recoil in sudden shock and searing pain. He snorted, hearing a muffled scream from the body.

By now, other parts were starting to hurt. Mainly where he had opened the chest and put in the artificial heart, though my limbs were now drenched in a dull ache. He was starting to get to me; having me start thinking of the body as mine.

Millenniumon opened the body's mouth. _What's he doing,_ I asked myself. I tried to close it, but the connection only worked enough for me to give a cry once and a while. So, sitting there helpless with my mouth gaping, he drilled.

"Still testing your nerve system." Agonizing! He drilled to the nerves. I stifled another cry.

_You're sick, ya know that! When I get the chance, your heads are mine!_ He drilled further in response, silencing me. The connection was getting stronger. I screamed. I screamed as loud and as long as I could, trying to shut my mouth. He had it braced in an open position. Finally, I blacked out from the intensity of the pain.

----

I woke again. The light had been left on. _Still in the tube,_ I thought, seeing a reflection of the corpse. I could feel things though. The sheet that covered most of the cadaver, the pain of an open wound; it all resonated within me. Its limbs were heavy and immovable.

I saw movement from the table. It was breathing! I heard it breathing. Long, labored breaths coinciding with the steady rise and fall of the body's chest. I sighed. And I heard that too.

I tried to speak. The body's eyes opened and I was there in an instant. I lifted an arm. Completely artificial, but functional. I turned my head. A blinding light greeted me from the left, so I turned right.

The reflection of a window showed in the tube that formerly housed me. The sky was gray. I guessed Ea, but it could have been Valhalla.

"Arrgh…" My voice was dusty and deep, like it hadn't been used in years. My head hurt like everything else. "Why do I keep waking up like this?" I coughed, spitting up a little blood.

I lifted the sheet, finding the wound closed and fairly healed as well. The body hurt, but moved perfectly with each passing second. I gathered up my strength—what was left of it—and stood. My legs almost collapsed under me from the weight and under-use.

Finally, I stood supporting myself. My eyes had adjusted to the light by now and I surveyed the room wearily. It was bare, save for the table, glass tube, a set of armor, and a security camera. The light on it blinked indicating that the camera was recording.

I picked up the armor. It was designed for my body, a BlackWarGreymon. Piece by piece I placed it over my body, slowly but surely covering the implants. The arm guards were the last pieces that I took up. The claws on both the body and arm plates were dull, but they would do the trick.

I looked at the camera and scowled. That would be the first thing to go. And it was. With one swift, painful motion I swiped the camera off its mounting and destroyed it completely.

An invisible door opened on the side opposite me. Millenniumon stepped in with his attack charged and aimed. "Try anything and you die," he told me harshly. "Now sit." I sat. He shut the door behind him. "You are expected in Neflhiem within one week for inspection."

"And if I refuse?"

"You don't."

So that was it. I didn't have any choice in the matter. Either I did what they said, or they made me do what they said. It's funny how the world works sometimes, when you think you have it figured out it punches you in the face for no reason.

The implants in my arms were starting to come online. A faint hum from one of them could be heard. Millenniumon grinned widely. "You have an obligation to thank the one who saved your life," he said from his left head.

"I'm pretty sure he was the one to take it in the first place." That earned me a trip across the room into the glass tube. It shattered, the shards cutting into my flesh. At least I think it was flesh.

I wasn't sure. I definitely knew it hurt, but it didn't _feel_ like flesh. It seemed more solid and thick. It was mine, but it wasn't—real? is that the right term? I didn't know what it was.

I pulled a dentenite shard from my body. Millenniumon laughed when it didn't ooze blood. Almost like it was closed when the shard left, like a rubber stopper in a vacuum tube.

I stood, forcing the leg implants to turn on. "You are sick, twisted and not worthy of any sort of respect." I was surprised when he didn't attack me. "I'll have no say in what goes on in my life, will I?"

"You are mine," he replied, making clear that he possessed the means to kill me instantly. "You are my most important project to date; a testament to bio-genetic engineering."

Optical installments started coming to life, making me blink rapidly. Millenniumon laughed at that. "Your implants are running diagnostics on themselves. That's why you are blinking." I hated the way he was observing me, like I was an animal in zoo.

"As my project, you are under my care." Which was why I wasn't strapped down to a torture table.

"The Enemy treats you badly." Nothing in his expressions betrayed any sort emotion. The Enemy had taught him to hide his emotions well. "Under your care. You'll not do the same as your master has."

Thank God I'm a Mind User. It was the only way I could tell that Millenniumon was feeling shame and guilt. His body language and speech patterns would not say anything otherwise, but his thoughts raced with remorse.

"Come." He slipped out the door and I followed, keeping a relatively safe distance behind him. Millenniumon spoke again as we walked. "I am not my master," he said. "In my own opinion, Master has taken his conquest too far."

That was slightly reassuring. Even he was weary of the Enemy's plans. "But that begs the question. Why do you continue to follow him?"

"You will serve me, not Master," he continued without answering. "As such, I will assign you quarters to _my_ liking." So I would be working for him, not his master. Easy to deal with, though it was still not preferable to freedom.

"In what capacity will I be working?" _I'd better get the information now._ Millenniumon did not answer this time. He walked silently, still keeping an eye on me so that I couldn't escape.

The corridor was longer than I expected. We must have passed hundreds of tiny cells, full of equipment used for experimentation. Our footsteps echoed on the tile floor, making it so that every once and a while a face would pop up inside the observation windows.

Usually they were deformed and unrecognizable to anyone but Millenniumon. Some of them shouted for me to run, others whimpered unintelligibly for sustenance. I was sure they were made into slaves, the intelligent ones used for assistants in Millenniumon's research.

I knew I should have run. But I would have been killed instantly. Each of those echoes chanted the word death at a steady pace. It hit me then that I didn't know where I was being led. Millenniumon had not said anything after I asked what I would be doing.

He stopped abruptly, opening a large pair of doors. "Enter," he said quietly. I did, and was taken into a large, empty chamber. "There are no cameras or recording devices in this room. I am the only one who knows of its existence.

"I have been in this room countless times thinking. The walls are magnetically charged and connected to implants in the prisoners' brains. No Mind User can penetrate this room."

"And you brought me here why?" It was then that I noticed the room wasn't totally empty. The walls up to a certain height were folded in. I guessed that they were tables used for surgery, but I couldn't know for sure. "This is where you experiment?"

Why was I asking questions? My first priority was escaping. While I didn't remember where I came from or who I was, I remembered perfectly who the Enemy was. I wasn't about to let myself go under again without a fight.

"This is where I plot." The doors closed. "As I said, Master has taken this war too far from the original plan. He is turning this world into a desert." A table crept out from the wall.

"You're plotting against him?" Undermining his own master? So Millenniumon isn't evil? Well, just a tad. I'd seen the faces of his slaves. "I would have thought you chose to follow him."

Several other platforms came out of the wall, each with a different array of tools and unfinished projects. The beast turned one of his heads toward me. "In the beginning I did choose him. I chose to follow him because he told me he was going to unite the Digital World."

"And he went to far?"

His hands were busy working on a remote control of some sort. He spoke as he worked. "When he destroyed Mt. Nebo was when I realized that he had no intention of fulfilling his promise. Nebo was my home."

He pressed a button on his remote and I went blind. Within a few moments I could see again, but it left me slightly shaken. "That remote controls these implants?" He confirmed, forcing me to walk in circles.

"Master will want you to be controlled somehow," he said. "Three days from now, I'll transport you to Neflhiem for inspection. Once you pass that, I'll disable the remote."

I was getting tired of his tests. And just why did he not just let me act like I was in control? I decided to ask him. "He'll know the difference. You'd have to be able to think to act like that. And even the best couldn't hide the fact that they're sentient."

I blacked out for a moment. "What was that?" I asked when I came to, still standing. "Was that a test?"

"Yes."

"So I won't be sentient?" This was just getting better and better every minute. "What happens after inspection? He'll find out then, won't he?" There was a plan in place already. The beast wouldn't be so stupid as to let his guard down after only a preliminary test.

"I'll take you once more for surgery, then tie your mind into those of sentient workers, like I did with this room." He stretched my arms out, then brought them to my side again. "After that, you will help me plot our escape."

"_Our_ escape?"

Millenniumon turned and glared at me. "I destroyed your memories of your previous life under Master's orders. But I purposely left your memories of _him_." I shuddered. Millenniumon was using me to help him escape, that much was clear.

I was glad to help. Remembering all the atrocities that the Enemy had committed, I could show a little empathy toward the beast. But I had to stop and remember what Millenniumon was guilty of too.

But on the other hand, if he was forced to do it that would be different. But the beast willingly chose to follow his master. He had a free will, and that is impossible to break no matter what.

"Our escape," he said, turning back to his work. "Keep that in mind." He turned me around a few times and then letting me rest on one of the platforms. He opened the back of the remote and started fiddling with the internal workings.

"What are you going to do _if_ you escape?" There isn't a snowball's chance in Hell that the world was just going to let him off the hook for his crimes. And I was seriously debating sabotaging his attempts at freedom just to punish him. "You won't survive in the outside world."

The beast sighed, but continued his work. "I intend to take full responsibility for my actions." He was going to die. There was no other option for him. The courts would inevitably find him guilty, and if he stayed, Millenniumon would die at the hands of the Enemy.

He started testing my reflexes via the remote. "So you're willing to die? It would happen either way and there isn't any chance of avoiding it." The nerves around my eyes started to twitch.

"Try to keep your talking to a minimum." It was the only time in my life that I've ever seen a mute button for a person. After that I couldn't speak unless he let me, which wasn't very often during his battery.

He didn't do much talking either though. It seemed like he was slightly depressed at the prospect of not being able to enjoy freedom for anymore than a few minutes. As he continued with my reflex tests, he didn't look at me either. Almost as if I was a symbol of what he hated most about himself.

One of a few gifts I'd been blessed with after loosing the bulk of my memories was empathy, the ability to place one's self in someone else's place. And after speaking with the beast, I could see his point of view. But it was only because I'd not known anything else except the Enemy's tyranny.

_Still a gift though,_ I mused. _Could you at least answer one question?_ He wouldn't reply to telepathy either. He was totally engulfed in his work, focussing solely on the little device that kept me silent.

_How would we get out?_ I still got nothing from him. I guessed it was because he didn't trust me. Although in his position, trust is not something easily given. _Have you even thought that far ahead?_

"Yes."

He must have been getting frustrated with me. Or maybe he was beginning to trust me? Unlikely. _Could you do the surgery here?_ I didn't like the idea of being unconscious in front of the Enemy. But there was an upside to it, I had to admit. I wouldn't have to worry about performing perfectly.

"Not enough time."

_Alright, I can deal with that._ And then it occurred to me. From an hour ago, he went from flinging me across rooms to embarrassed silence. I was witness to the real Millenniumon that no one ever saw. He was hiding himself still, but he wasn't acting for his master.

_So why are you quiet?_ From the corner of my eye I saw him press one of the buttons on the remote. A fraction of a second later I was immersed in the darkness of unconsciousness again.

* * *

**A/N:** Ok, this should be a little easier to read. As you can see, I've broken DCC up into about three chapters so you don't have to find your place again, and so it doesn't seem quite so intimidating. Of course, dedicated to INS Dragonclaw. 


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Hello to you all. For the record, I do not own Digimon. I own Kai, the universe in which this is set, and the computer which this is being typed on. If you read this, I only ask you of one thing. REVIEW THE STORY or face my Crazy Aunt Betty and her toxic sludge. Evil cackle

* * *

**DIGITAL WAR:**

**Destroy, Create, Control**

Again I heard voices. Vaguely to where I could not understand them, but I was sure I heard voices. My body was numb and so was my mind. I couldn't use any of my higher brain functions. My eyes also seemed to be covered in a film of some sort so I couldn't see clearly.

A figure came into view. It was dark and bulky, with wiry appendages. But much more than that I couldn't say other than that from the outline it was Apocalymon. I was warming up again and things were becoming clearer. This was probably the test that Millenniumon was talking about.

I couldn't think direct coherent thoughts, but at least I was awake. And the voices were becoming more distinct. I could make out the beasts rasp and his words, though it sounded monotonous from my perspective.

"As you can see, Master," he was saying, "the subject is completely under my control. All of the implants are working steadily and the slave driver in his mind is at peek efficiency."

I heard a grunt to his left. Then a second voice. It was low and quiet, as if hating to admit that he was impressed. "Give me the remote." My heart skipped a beat and my subconscious screamed in protest to the awful things I would be subjected to.

The beast protested as well. "Sir," he said. "Why do you need to see the remote? I designed it as a lab assistant for me, Master. None of his functions would interest you." My eyes had adjusted to where the film did not inhibit my vision by now and I saw Millenniumon go down in a burst of electricity.

The Enemy's soft-spoken voice continued as if nothing had happened to his servant. "Now, give me the remote." The beast did so, still unfailing to point out that his master would not find anything of value.

A nebulous feeling of terror washed over me. It was all I was capable of at the moment. Millenniumon had promised me that I would be blacked out for this. But he was wrong. I wasn't able to think or talk or move, but I was still awake and feeling every emotion in it's most powerful form.

It was the only sense that was perfectly clear. And at present, I performed for the Enemy. And my dignity, as little as I had, was shredded in an instant. Nothing in my life would compare to that experience.

But it was at that time that I was the most thankful that I had been incapacitated like I was. If I hadn't been, I know I would have gone straight for his throat. Then onto his two cronies, one of which had worked to save my life. But the fact didn't change that I was seeing red.

And a new sense of fear seized me. I couldn't control my emotions because of the inability to use my higher brain functions. It was almost an out-of-body experience. And I could feel my body being corrupted by the uncontrolled Red Factor.

A flurry of hatred welled up in me for what was happening. I hated the Enemy with every ounce of my being. And if anyone was going to destroy him, it would be me. And his pet Apocalymon… laughing uncontrollably at my humiliation. I was going to strangle him with his own arms.

The feeling finally subsided when I saw Millenniumon. A distressed mega at the end of his rope. My empathy kicked in again and the Red Factor halted. Unable to express myself though, I couldn't even breathe a sigh of relief that Red Factor would not be my death.

It was only a small comfort though. Quite a bit of damage had been done to me. The disease had already corrupted my base genetics and data. I was fused with my implants, never to have them removed. And if by some miracle I evolved again, it would be corrupted beyond recognition.

Their laughing stopped at long last and the Enemy seemed pleased. Resignedly and a little spitefully, he said, "You did well." The remote dropped into Millenniumon's eager hands.

"Thank you, Master." He turned to leave, forcing me to walk behind him. As if I needed any more incentive than to get away from the monster that the Enemy was. "Sir," he said, dreading the response from his master. "I do need to perform one last surgery on him to install the voice recognition system so I won't have to fumble with the remote."

An angry sigh and his master's reply. "Very well. But see that it recognizes my voice, or that you keep it locked away in your labs." Millenniumon nodded and backed away slowly. I followed, still under the power of the remote, yet just as glad to be away from his master.

The thrown room was behind us now, and sealed off by a massive set of double doors. Millenniumon sighed heavily. "You're awake, aren't you?" He knew I couldn't respond. But still, somehow the message got across. "That was the real test, to see if I was trying to oust him."

I already knew that. The clues were obvious to me, as they should have been obvious to anyone. But still, the "act" went off with only one pretty major hitch. As soon as he deactivated the remote, I was going to give him a piece of my mind—what was left of it after Red Factor, that is.

Minutes later, in a lab strikingly similar to the one in Valhalla, I had my chance. Millenniumon deactivated the control, standing within perfect distance of me. For a moment, I considered just letting it slide.

He checked me over, inspecting any possible damage the Enemy might have done. I stood completely still, until one of his heads was at my eye level. _WHAM!_ He recoiled from the sudden shock of my fist colliding with his face. And quite to my surprise, he didn't react.

"I had that coming," he replied gravely. I knew what he was thinking now. This was the reason he wanted to escape so badly. He had finally grown sick of his master's cruelty to others and to himself.

"I'm going to be corrupted," I told him bluntly. "Red Factor."

That was all he needed to know at that point. And all I wanted to say for that matter. There was no way that I was going to evolve to a natural form after this. But if it was the cost of freedom, I didn't really care.

"Figured as much. It shouldn't effect the surgery."

Now, why did his lack of concern make me worry? Was it normal? Most likely it was. I found the calm in his voice disquieting to my own peace. I gulped. I have to say that I shouldn't have been so unnerved by it all. Red Factor is, as yet, untreatable. There was nothing anyone could do about it except the Creator.

But if my luck kept on its current course, the chances of divine intervention would be questionable at best. At the very worst, I would suffer the same fate as the drones: having my consciousness sucked into the Enemy's being and tortured until my life cycle expired. Unfortunately for me, in a battle of odds, the latter of the two would win.

Yes, though, I was disconcerted by the reply I received. Millenniumon had shown me more compassion than I would have imagined he was capable of. But he had also shown more indifference. It was like I was a means to an end for him. (Which didn't bother me much because we'd be sharing the same end).

"So this is no problem to you? I'm going to be corrupted because of your heads' collective incompetence!" _Control yourself. It wasn't his fault…_ Trying to calm myself wasn't working very well. _He admitted he had a punch in the head coming to him. He can't be _all_ bad._

"There is nothing I could do, so why worry about it?" As much as I hated to admit it, the beast had a point. One I'd known the whole time, too. It was me though. I was the one suffering through this, wasn't I?

"You should worry more about me and whether I'll help you." His face registered more indifference. We both understood the situation. I didn't have a choice but to help him or suffer the ultimate in torture. "Can you at least tell me how bad you think it is?"

"You don't want to know," he said, dismissing the question. "And I wouldn't want to worry you about something you can't help."

"I'm already worried."

"I'll have to check internal damage first before I can make a diagnosis. Other than that, I couldn't say." Well, that wasn't what I was hoping to hear. He probably didn't care one way or the other whether I was corrupted or not.

The real question was why, though. I had quite a few ponderings going through my mind, one of which was how he got his form. Was _he_ corrupted? I wasn't stupid enough to ask. He might black me out again and put in a control device for real.

And anyway, escaping Neflhiem wasn't going to be easy. The Enemy would have guards at all the access points. He'd have security cameras; booby traps set up to kill any intruders. And Millenniumon was going to _sneak_ past them? _I_ was going the sneak past them?

"When are you going to perform my surgery?"

"I could easily begin now if it would make you worry less." Why would he want me to worry less? Confused, I was. Then, as if reading my thoughts, "I can't have you paranoid if we are to escape without detection. It would make you a liability that we cannot afford."

_Oh joy._ "I guess we should just get this over with then, shouldn't we?" The beast nodded. After this procedure, I would be free to speak my mind—literally—whenever I wanted. And of course, we'd be plotting our escape and the eventual downfall of the Enemy.

Millenniumon punched a button on a wall and a metal platform rose from the floor. As directed, I laid myself down on the table. I it was cold, just like a torture table and briefly I wondered if that's what its original purpose was. Either because of that thought or the coolness of the counter, I shuddered violently and then laughed it off as best I could.

The beast seemed to share in my mirth for once as his eyes lit temporarily. I couldn't say for sure though, because he had just stuck a needle in my arm full of sedatives. Almost as quickly as if I'd been shut off by that remote, I was out cold.

My perception of the passage of time, I believe. So I couldn't possibly tell how long it was before I woke again. In Neflhiem, the sun there only shines for a few hours each day, and the light is so pale that there are no shadows. During the dark hours, flood lamps lit the factories and complexes.

From what I knew of the place, it was entirely industrial and fueled by the harsh winds that continually plagued the surface. Drones were working the factories like bees in a hive, overseen by one powerful mega that was conscious but restrained by electric shock collars.

I didn't know how I knew what Neflhiem looked like. The information had just shown up out of nowhere. Another gift from the beast if I had to guess. It was almost like the Creator had abandoned the place and left it to rot. The sky was starless, and lightless except for the pitiful excuse for a sun.

It was much better inside, according to what I had been given. An overall feeling of dread prevailed, though, even inside the confines of slave cells. It was an invasive train of thought, penetrating to my very core. I had known fear and even full-blown terror, but never from the vantage point of the hopeless.

That's the exact point of view I had now. From the feel of it, the surgery had been a complete success. But the side effects were almost not worth it. I could actually see through the eyes of the drones, hear the echoes of their consciousnesses; their fears and hopes, pains and sufferings, and worst of all the constant knowledge that they'd never be free. It was enough to make even the strongest willed Digimon break apart inside.

But another, much more welcome reaction was that I could now understand the beast. He sat staring at me as I woke, knowing the exact turmoil I was going through. It was the first time that I realized that Millenniumon had gone through and performed the procedure on himself, and failed miserably. He knew the drones, but didn't have the same security that I had.

And because of that, his thoughts were the only consistent ones in the whole cacophony of emotions. Both of us were silent in thought and speech for quite a while. Then I broke it: "Now you know what the world feels."

It was the entire reason for his change in attitude. It took the destruction of his home city, subsequently the massacre of his entire FmU, and then the thoughts of all the drones he had helped create to bring about his renaissance. He was stubborn for sure, and had at one point held firm a deep belief in the Creator.

I knew the beast now. I knew his character, his thoughts, his convictions and his purpose most of all. He was not going to be content just in dying for his crimes. He wanted to correct them as best he could. An attempt to try and change the past. As far as I knew, my existence was solely to be his spokesperson: an arbitrator for him to try and plead for his life.

I now had a sense of what he was trying to accomplish. Then and there, my view about the beast changed irrevocably. Without a second thought or a single doubt in my mind, I told him I would help.

In the next several weeks we began to plot and scheme. Of course, I lived up to my "function" of the beast's assistant in the lab, but never more than monitoring vitals and handing him tools.

On several occasions, I had heard Millenniumon speak of an underground passage to the gate. When we worked in the labs, it was not turning ordinary people to slaves but instead, repairing damage that had been done, then placing them in that passage so they could escape.

Ours, however, would not be so simple. According to Millenniumon, the Enemy didn't know of the tunnel's existence. So if we were to just waltz in there and try to walk out the other side, the tracking device on Millenniumon's restraining collar would alert him and we'd be destroyed before we were half way through.

In that we encountered a horrible and almost impassible problem. How in the world were we going to deactivate the tracker? The credit for finding the solution goes to the beast and one of the "drones" we were supposed to be creating. If we couldn't beat the tracker, we would go around it. It was such a simple idea; it was a shame that I didn't think of it first.

Instead of trying to take off the collar, we would scatter the signal that it beamed back to the Enemy. We would appear to be in one place, but in total reality, the Enemy wouldn't know we were missing until after we were in Muspelshiem.

The guards at the gate would be easy as well. Like the drones, the guards were working on autopilot, so they would recognize their superior (i.e. Millenniumon) and let us pass without a problem. So simple a plan, only a genius could think of it.

With that in mind, there was only one last detail to work out. Getting out of Neflhiem wouldn't be a problem in the slightest. The problem would be how to get out of the Palace Complex. Security was tight here, and so were the guards. The guards had been specifically programmed by the Enemy himself to not let anyone in or out without his pass code, which was changed regularly. That ten digit alphanumerical code was the only thing that separated us from freedom.

Both of us had spent hours trying to hack into the Enemy's personal database without any semblance of luck. At long last, we decided that that course of action was ultimately going to end in the discovery of our plan and both of our executions. Plan "B" was even riskier.

But it was the only plan we had left to choose from. Again, it was simple, and the tunnel would be useless because of the change. Millenniumon was going to lie to the Enemy's face, telling him that we needed to move the clone works to the more advanced facilities in Anshar.

It still had its risks. The rebellion had been laying siege to Anshar for almost twenty years. It was quite possible that Anshar could be taken before we had the chance to get there. Or Millenniumon could be captured before our escape attempt and killed, along with me.

Neither of us fancied the idea of approaching the Enemy. My own proclivities toward the idea were based fully on the bond that had developed between me and the beast. Our time together had now seen fit to form a rather stable friendship with each other. Considering his history, I'd personally say it was a strange relationship. It was also the only one I had to fall back on.

I had reservations about what might happen to Millenniumon if he did not successfully convince his master to let us move the clone works to Anshar. Secondary effects included my deletion as well, which just added more incentive to not get caught.

And then it was time. I had followed Millenniumon, acting stony and spaced-out like all drones. He rehearsed his part well, as did I. And when we entered the thrown room, for what was hopefully the last time; I was not disappointed to see that the Enemy did not like my presence.

"Millenniumon," he said with casually building anger, "why is that here?" I was glad he couldn't hear my thoughts. I was thinking, but not speaking, a torrent of profanities that I wanted to spew at him.

"It is my personal assistant, sir," Millenniumon replied, telling me to bow mentally. "It has been a guinea pig for me, sir, and the latest test requires my constant observation."

Quite to my surprise, he bought it. Either that or he was playing us. For a fact though, he didn't have a clue to the real reason I was there. I wanted to hear this for myself.

"Very well. If you must insist on its constant companionship, I will make no objections." He leaned forward in his seat. "Now is there a reason that you are here? Or are you just wasting my time?"

"No, sir."

_Here it comes… The moment of truth._ My throat tightened due to nervousness. Involuntarily, I held my breath and then noticed that it had happened and quietly let out the breath so as not to draw attention to myself.

"You asked for a status report on the clone works," the beast continued. "I came to inform you that we will need to move the works to more advanced facilities." Millenniumon paused.

"This project is the most important that I have given you, Millenniumon." A burst of static came from Millenniumon's conscious as his collar activated. "I specifically told you when you started that whatever you needed to do, you were to do it without asking me.

"Your constant insistence on asking me about everything has become a thorn in my side that I will no longer tolerate. The next time you _must_ ask my permission for something, you and your guinea pig will be destroyed immediately."

"Then we will move to Anshar at once sir." His tone suggested that he was sincerely grateful for the Enemy's cooperation. We moved from the thrown room back to our sanctuary on the other side of the Palace Complex.

The plan had so far been a success. We were honestly packing the clone works, not that I knew much about it, for the trip to Anshar. But we were not moving them there to even fake working on them. Subtlety would have dictated otherwise, but we were going to hand over the plans to the Rebellion at our defection. All we wanted in exchange was asylum in the new Digital World.

The next three days we spent packing the clone works, and other experiments that we thought might be valuable to the Rebellion. Soon enough, with fake drones in tow, our entourage entered the city of Anshar.

All of us celebrated freely for the first time in ages. Millenniumon even took the time to sabotage the security system, just to irritate the Enemy. But only a day and a half into our celebration, it was cut short.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Hello to you all. For the record, I do not own Digimon. I own Kai, the universe in which this is set, and the computer which this is being typed on. If you read this, I only ask you of one thing. REVIEW THE STORY or face my Crazy Aunt Betty and her toxic sludge. Evil cackle

* * *

**DIGITAL WAR:**

**Destroy, Create, Control**

The doors to the palace slammed open revealing the Enemy, angry and flustered. "Who did it!" was the piercing cry. Millenniumon came out, faking the urgency of getting the clone works completed. "There is a saboteur stalking about the palace. Find him or you will not live to see the next full moon!"

"Sir, I was not aware that security had been compromised."

The Enemy growled fiercely at Millenniumon. "Begin searching at once and start with your drones." The beast nodded and turned to leave. "Activate the clone works before anything else."

Millenniumon unwittingly frowned, provoking his master to backhand him. "I said to activate the clone works! And send out our legions." I grinned slightly, hearing the desperation in the Enemy's voice. It sounded like the Rebellion was finally going to take Anshar.

The Enemy took off outside the palace and headed toward the front lines. Millenniumon looked at me, knowing I was hiding in a corner. "The master is desperate," he said. "Go and activate the clone works. Hopefully it will self-destruct."

"What will you be doing?"

"I want to know what is happening out on the front. I'm going to check the security cameras that are still intact and find out how we can aid them." And he went. I gathered that the situation was not going to end well for the Enemy.

But the clone works… I had to activate it? Of course I knew how to operate the machine, but the risks involved in using it were high and I wasn't really willing to take them. However, if we were going to fool him, we needed to flip the switch.

I went to the labs, making sure to take as much time as I could get away with. The only thing that provided any comfort right now was that I knew that our freedom was drawing near.

The labs were getting closer. _Maybe I could just fake activating it?__Nah, that wouldn't work._ They'd know the difference immediately and Millenniumon would be killed.

I opened the lab doors and then shut them behind me. _Now where is that panel? Ah—there it is!_ A frighteningly small computer bank in the corner operated the clone works. Even smaller, a button that made the whole thing work.

I approached it hesitantly, weary of the device's history of backfiring. I had very little understanding of the science behind it or it's purpose, except for knowing that it was supposed to clone the Enemy. But anyone who worked on it had a three out of four chance of getting electrocuted.

My heart pounded and my nerves quaked. _Alright. You'll be fine,_ I kept telling myself. I didn't believe it in the slightest. _Just do…_ I jabbed the array with my fist and ran for cover.

"Clone works activation successful."

­_Wha?_

"Initiating transfer… Transfer procedure halted: Target required."

"Target?" Ok, now I was lost. Millenniumon had failed to mention that the machine needed a target. Let alone what the target was for. "Query," I said, ponderously. "What is the target required for?"

A large claw started resting on my shoulder. Millenniumon was standing above me, watching the machine with a stone-like gaze. He too approached the clone works and entered a command unknown to me.

The machine beeped and then confirmed. "Target accepted. Target acquired: Earth: Human female. Re-initializing transfer sequence. Transfer in progress. Estimated time to completion: one hundred forty-six seconds. Time elapsed: twenty seconds."

"Earth?" I'd never heard of it. To my limited insight, there was no plane called "Earth" anywhere. Logically, Millenniumon must have targeted a non-existent place so that the clone would come into being. But then, how does that explain "human"?

"Earth is not part of the Digital World. But compared to our world, the Humans are weak and the clone will be cursed with a form that has no innate abilities." So that explained that. "The machine needs a real target or else it is programmed to kill the user."

Millenniumon sighed. "I will not be able to go with you," he said.

Oh bull. "You're going with me or I'm going kill you myself. I did not spend the last three months in hell for you to just give up!" Besides, with the plans he was going to give the Rebellion, they would have to spare his life.

"The Sovereigns are hell-bent on destroying any last remnant of my master. Including me," he said. "No matter what I do, the rest of my existence will be spent in Neflhiem." They were going to spare him anyway. Just, they were going to send them all to Neflhiem.

It bothered me. "What about the programs and technology?" He wasn't answering immediately like he usually did. Something was terribly wrong. "What happened to the programs?" He still didn't answer.

Instead he turned away. "What did you do?" I asked him again and again, each time becoming more and more afraid for him. I knew him now. He was like a brother who was on his deathbed.

"The database has been destroyed," he told me somberly. Not possible. That room was under lock and key, and it was surrounded by thirteen inches of titanium digizoid. Nothing could have destroyed it but a computer…

"The security systems? All of it is deleted?" My worst fears were confirmed when the security alarm went off. The gates to the city had been breached and the Enemy had had to fall back.

"There isn't anything I can do anymore, except wait patiently for them to exile me." He walked out onto a near by balcony to watch the incoming invasion. "You can still make it out. All you have to do is get out of the palace. The guards have all been moved to hold them off, so it will be a clear shot for you."

I could help. I knew I could. I wasn't going to leave without him. Not after everything he'd done to hurt the Enemy's cause. He'd saved my life and given me a new body to live, he'd targeted a world that was still forming, and he'd made sure that the Rebellion would take Anshar…

"I'm not leaving without you. I'll testify for you. They'd have to believe me, right?"

"The Sovereigns would claim that you were corrupted." He was right, as usual. But it didn't help the problem of getting him to come with me. I could probably hide him if he used his shrinking program. Then he would be free. All he'd have to do was devolve to a lower form.

Then, "That won't work. My data is not capable of sustaining any sort of de-evolution. It would kill me to let that much data dissipate."

"You just can't give up though!"

"I NEVER SAID I WAS GIVING UP," he yelled, grabbing my throat. He whispered feverishly with a pounding anger. "I still have faith that I'll make it through. I will die in Neflhiem, but it will be as a free man! Now go and save yourself before I throw you to off this balcony."

"You'll be free," I rasped, clutching his arm as he held me above the floor. "I promise that you'll be free." He loosened his grip and put me down. "Just don't give up that hope."

"Go!"

----

There I stood, surrounded by six ultimates with nothing better to do than bug someone too tired to do anything about it. They were young too. Even with all of my implants, I wouldn't be able to take all of them. Maybe one or two of them, but not all six.

"Old man," one of them called. "Are ya gonna fight or just stand there all day?" I wasn't going to honor him with a response. He was young and stupid, and not fit to be a servant of a servant. "Heh! If you aren't going to make a move, than we will!"

The Leomon wannabe dashed at me with his followers in tow. If I made any sort of attempt at fighting back, it would put me in a position that I couldn't get out of. Even if I won, the courts would look at me, study my implants, and then decide that I had an unfair advantage.

So I let them attack without making a move to even run. These punks were going to get what they deserved, even if it killed me. They would be sentenced to serve time in the penal colonies in Muspelshiem. But I would be pretty worse for the wear.

_Small price to pay,_ I thought as they began pummeling me. Each blow was painful, but worth it to see them in their shackles. _Heh, maybe they'll devolve me and I can dump the implants._

One of them landed a haymaker to my muzzle and I fell from the shock. I wouldn't last much longer on the ground, but it was all right with me. I had nothing important to live for.

_Except my promise._ Yeah, I still remembered my promise to Millenniumon. Though it was three hundred years ago and he had most likely forgotten. _What am I doing letting these _kids_ destroy me? I can't let myself go until I make sure he's free._

"BLACK TORNADO!" The children surrounding me jumped back, blackened by the dark flames that engulfed my body. "You should leave before you get hurt," I told them.

"CYCLONE TORNADO!" The leader attacked me, spinning into his triple play. Two or three nothing. This was going to be a piece of cake.

I caught his leg and twisted it, driving his face into the ground as hard as I could. A loud snap issued from his leg as I crushed it beneath my foot, breaking it clean. "I told you to leave before you get hurt."

The rest, seeing their fallen leader tried to jump me the same way, and each getting the same treatment: a broken leg or tail. For the first time in a long time, I enjoyed myself. These children were trying to make a fool of myself, and yet ended up getting themselves turned into bone dust.

My mind was on autopilot now, kicking and dodging and generally destroying them without hesitation. And I didn't care. I wanted revenge. Not on them, but on the one who had failed. I wanted to hurt something, and they were the ones who I vented on.

It felt good to lose it. To just let the anger envelop me and control me. I knew that Red Factor would eventually set in, but it just felt so good to hurt something… someone. I lost my vision, I lost my voice, and I lost all control of my body as my implants started working on their own.

Just like three hundred years ago, I could feel myself fusing with them. Nothing would stop it this time, and I didn't want anything to stop it. I would be stronger, more powerful, able to keep my promise. And then I would be ready to die…

_What? What am I saying?_ This couldn't be right! _Stop! Stop it!_ I couldn't control it. I was seeing red. And it wasn't turning back… _Stop! No, I can't let this happen!_ Searing pain, burning flames that were not my own. In the midst of the chaos I was causing, my body started ripping apart.

"Aaaaaaaaaaargh!" It was too much for me to handle, but my body wouldn't shut down. I couldn't escape it, the pain and agony of my own hatred of myself. It wouldn't stop until I was completely fused with my implants and my hatred. I was changing for the worst.

Even my screams stopped when the pain turned inward, like I was going to explode. It wouldn't quite. It just rumbled on inside of me, never easing and always getting worse and worse and worse.

I didn't know what was going on around me. All I could focus on was the hurting, the suffering which I had caused myself. My knees hit the ground, followed by my arms in voluntarily keeping me from making a face plant. It hurt all over, especially when my arms collapsed and I fell completely to the ground.

I don't know how long I lay there, wreathing in pain and finally finding my voice to scream again. I convulsed and shut my eyes as tight as I could, hoping to block out the sight of everything being tinted red. And suddenly, with one excruciating and disgusting sounding splat, it all stopped.

My mind was clear again, my vision had no tint to it, every muscle and implant was functioning normally. But with there was something wrong. I heard voices murmuring around me, calling me corrupted. I felt appendages that weren't supposed to be attached to my body.

My form had changed into—something—a beast born of hell. A horrible wave of nausea washed over me when I realized what had happened. Four arms—from forms that I'd never had. Wings which weren't at all a natural thing for me to have.

_Kaimeramon. What did I do to myself?_ The people who'd gathered around stared and whispered. I knew what they were thinking. They all thought I was a monster, a freak of nature that should be destroyed.

"He should be killed," one of the crowd said boldly. With so many there inclined to agree, I fled, taking to the sky as fast as I could. Where I would go, I didn't know. But I wasn't ready to die. I'd live alone until I could find away to keep my word.

But I didn't know how long that'd be, or whether or not I'd ever find a way. But I would research and look. I'd never give it up. My actions though, would keep me exiled and out of public life. It wouldn't matter where I went, as long as no one ever found me.

Yggdrassil would be good. Deep forest and easy to get lost in. A small cabin would be totally invisible to anyone who happened to look for something like that. All I'd need was supplies, and those would be easy to come across.

I flew fast, toward the gate to the next plane. Yggdrassil was still several thousand miles away. I'd make it, though. I'd be alone, but I'd make it. Nothing was going to stop me except for divine intervention, which if my luck kept on its present course, was probably the one thing that I could expect.

Oh well. I was going to head that way anyway. I was going to make sure I wouldn't fail myself—or my friend—again. All I needed for now was a tail wind and some time to think. And from the looks of it, I'd have plenty of both.

* * *

**A/N:** Last one. Not too shabby for a guy like me. But it's like trying to eat an elephant. You just have to take it one bite at a time. Last chapter dedicated to INS Dragonclaw as well. 


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